Lonely Hearts Dot Com
by Fantony
Summary: "Hedgehog221?/ My nickname. / Yes, I figured that out. But why Hedgehog?/ I don't know. I wanted something cute. That's the first thing that came to my mind./ Hedgehogs are not cute, John. They're full of ticks! Anyway, come to think of it, you do look like a hedgehog on that picture you posted." John subscribed to a dating website and Sherlock doesn't like it. At all. Slash.


_**Please keep in mind that I'm French, hence the English mistakes! ;)**_

* * *

**LONELY HEARTS DOT COM**

"Lonely hearts dot com?" I read aloud, leaning over your shoulder.

"Oh, please, Sherlock, don't you have better things to do than spying on me? You could... I don't know... You could clean up the mess you've made in the kitchen, for example. Just saying."

"I can't. I need to see which mouse rots first in the open air."

"Oh God. You realise it's our kitchen table, Sherlock. It's where we're supposed to eat."

"We never eat there."

"That's no excuse! It's gonna smell like..." you pause. "Like a dead rat!"

"Mouse, John."

"And what have you put into my cereal bowl?" You ask, ignoring my comment. "No, wait, just... just don't answer that, okay?"

Oh yes, you don't want to know, believe me John. I smirk. But let's come back to the subject. I'm being curious.

"What is this?" I question.

"What?"

I make _my Sometimes I wonder if you're stupid on purpose_ face. "Lonely hearts dot com, John. That sounds... pretty tragic."

You let out a long sigh. "It's a dating website."

"Could you be more specific?"

You can roll your eyes, I don't care.

"It's where single people, well, not always single actually, go to find other people, flirt with them, and propose a date to see if the alchemy could work in real life."

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Do such things really exist? "Date as in _two people who like each other go out and have fun_?" How is it I remember your precise words? I should have deleted this a long time ago. I mean, that's even more rubbish than the solar system. You look as surprised as me.

"Yes. Yes, exactly." I glare at you. "What?"

"Ridiculous," I sneer.

"Says the virgin who's never dated anyone," you mumble.

My mouth twitches. Damn Moriarty. "Sorry?"

"Nothing."

"I've never dated anyone because it's pointless. I've got much more interesting things to do with my life, it would only waste my time," I grumble.

I don't like that mocking smile curling your lips, John. I wonder if you smile because I haven't denied the 'virgin' bit, or because you think observing dead mice is not as interesting as flirting with strangers on a computer. Maybe both.

"Yeah, well, speak for yourself."

"Does that really work?"

"Of course it works. Why do you think I subscribed? I know many people who met each other that way."

"Like who?" I'm intrigued now.

"Like Lestrade and his wife, amongst others."

Ha ha! Now this is hilarious. "Is that where his wife met the P.E teacher too?"

"Shut up, Sherlock!"

Sorry, couldn't help. I wonder if Anderson and Donovan have ever been on one of those websites too. Oh, I'm really _really_ intrigued. "Anyway, why did you subscribe? I mean, it looks like you were doing pretty well in real life."

"Pretty well?" You look as shocked as if you'd just seen Mrs Hudson pole dancing in the middle of the flat. "I've dated only three women in more than a year. I don't count Alison because it was a one-night-stand. And they all dumped me!"

Ah. Alison. The one with the spots. You bet it was a one-night-stand! I would have run away too once seeing all her furuncles coming to light first thing in the morning.

"Any idea why they dumped you?" You sigh out of exasperation. "For example, the doctor. Sarah."

"Oh, I don't know." I recognize irony here. "Maybe she freaked out the night where we were about to... well... where things were getting serious and that you popped into my room, without even knocking."

"Well, I needed to talk to you," I protest.

"Sherlock, surely, telling me that the chewing-gum you had found under the victim's shoe had been chewed at least eight months before her death could have waited till morning."

And I thought I was being nice letting you be the first to know. Such ungratefulness saddens me. Anyway, you must admit that girl was really strange. She agrees to see you again when she comes close to death on your first date but she makes a fuss about me talking to you during the night? Thank God I don't burden myself with women.

"What about the boring teacher then?"

"Jeanette."

"I knew her name was Jeanette," I retort.

"No, you didn't."

I grin. "No, I didn't."

Yes, I did. I called her Sarah at Christmas just for the sake of upsetting her. I didn't like her. She said it was rubbish to collect dogs' hair.

"Well... I offered her to walk her dog. She didn't have one. Full stop."

What exactly was her problem with dogs? Women... Definitely not my area.

"And the one with the nose?"

You look daggers at me. "Don't you dare ask about her, Sherlock! You perfectly know what happened!"

Well, apparently it was no good telling her she was only dating John because her biological clock was ticking after her ex-boyfriend and her had suffered three miscarriages. I still can't see what was wrong in that but I guess I'd better keep a low profile. I glance back at your screen and raise an eyebrow. "Hedgehog221?"

"My nickname," you answer absently.

"Yes, I figured that out. But why _hedgehog_?"

You're losing patience and make no effort to hide it. "I don't know. I wanted something cute and that's the first thing that came to my mind."

You're really weird, John Watson. I can't believe I'm the one being called a freak...

"Hedgehogs are not cute, John. They're full of ticks!" I come closer to the screen. "But come to think of it, you do look like a hedgehog on that picture you posted."

"Sherlock!"

"No, really. You certainly don't look your best on this one! And who would want to go out with a hedgehog?"

"Just... Just leave me alone, ok? Nobody asked for your opinion!"

"I'm just trying to help," I mumble.

"Then don't! I certainly don't need any help from a social cripple who doesn't even know what love is and who would stand no chance of seducing a girl with his 243 types of tobacco ash!"

I pull a face. Fine. As you wish. I walk over the coffee table and let myself fall on the couch. Date whoever you want, John.

No, wait.

Don't date anyone.

I don't like that idea.

At all.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! :) I'm still not sure whether I should continue this or keep it as a one-shot... **_

_**Ps. I hope I haven't offended anyone with the miscarriage bit. If I have, then I'm sorry. Please don't think I'm not taking this seriously, I've just chosen this to emphasize Sherlock's lack of tact. **_

**Published on July.30 2013**


End file.
